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Asbravn
This small town is the market center of the farmers of the southern Sunset Vale. They trade with each other and with traveling merchants in the central market rather than taking their trade to the cities where someone else will make a profit from their food, not them. Buyers out of Berdusk and Iriaebor come to the market each day. It’s understood that the market of Asbravn fills bellies all along the Chionthar River. Asbravn lies in a shallow valley where the Dusk Road and the Uldoon Trail meet. A dilapidated temple to Ilmater faces the market, which is ringed by swap shops, a cooper and cratemaker, a wagonworks, shrines to Lliira (A House of Joy), Lathander (Morningstone House), and Waukeen (formerly Goldcoin House, and now an abandoned, burnt-out shell where local children play), a tavern called the Tankard and Sheaf, and an inn, the Board Laid Bare. Asbravn is famous for the Riders in Red Cloaks, its police and defenders. They.re local volunteers led by a few experienced warriors and occasionally bolstered by mages and priests who are sponsored by Iriaebor to keep the roads and the market safe. The Red Cloaks patrol in mounted dozens and often have to battle bandits, trolls, bugbears, orcs, and predatory monsters in the foothills of the southern Sunset Mountains, east of town. Since Zhentarim activity has increased, the Cloaks have run up against poisonings several times, and against ambushes by mercenaries who were very well paid by someone. Local feeling.and fear.is running high against the Zhentarim. Almost every family has at least one Rider. The post of reinforcement Rider was once offered to any able warrior when needed, with archers being particularly sought after. At a pay rate of tens of gold pieces per week, such positions were eagerly sought. Now, however, the town’s chief priest of Ilmater, Abject Supplicant Asgar Tellendar, is insisting on questioning applicants with the aid of the Harpers, or so local rumor runs. Asgar’s temple, the House of the Suffering God, is in danger of closing down. Asgar heads a clerical staff of only six priests, three novices, and four lay worshipers. The temple itself is a crumbling ruin, its tithes too meager to pay for repairs. Sinister visions have begun to appear in Asgar’s dreams, showing the God on the Rack turning his back on the temple of Asbravn, but as these dreams were always followed closely by visits from mysterious smooth-tongued people trying to buy the House, he’s not put too much credence in them. (“Zhents, or I’m a toad,” Asgar has told his worshipers angrily.) Other current local concerns are centered around a plan by one new landowner to breed long-horned horses for sale as battle mounts. Many farmers are afraid they.ll get out and trample crops or need too much hay to keep the surplus crops shipping as good-as-gold exports. The traveler through Asbravn will see only lush farms with wood lots, drainage ditches and ponds, wellkept barns and stump-and-boulder fences, and general tranquility. At corners where tracks and trails meet in the town stand old, cracked, stout stone pillars surmounted by crumbling horse heads. These are the only visible relics of an ancient city, Urdrath of the Horsemen, that stood on this site. The Horsemen were nomads who moved to Tunland or the Savage North long ago. Urdrath was where they came to worship and bury their dead in catacombs beneath the streets. Today, false cellar walls and sliding stones in the foundations of many of the town’s fifty-odd buildings lead into a vast maze of underground passages and galleries, their extent unknown. Tomb chambers and coffin niches in the passage walls are everywhere, and the deeper levels are roamed by undead. Some of the fallen warriors of the Horsemen, legend says, were buried with rich treasures. Many a curious visitor has paid 10 gold pieces or more to a local to be let into the catacombs.and more than one has fled out again in terror after coming upon a recently slain thief, face black with strangulation, throat caught forever in the bony, chilling grip of a skeletal arm that reached out of one of the horizontal coffin niches as the culprit passed. Still, the occasional person comes to the surface with a gem-adorned dagger or the remnants of an ivory or amber necklace, and brave (foolish, locals say) young people still come from Berdusk and Iriaebor on dares to enter the catacombs to impress their friends. Most visitors don’t look for such excitement in Asbravn. They marvel at the well-kept farms while passing through, perhaps buying some fresh eggs, cheese, or a joint of meat at the market. Or, they come here to buy wagonloads of provender in the market, knowing they.ll get good fresh fare at fair prices. This is the sort of town folk remember fondly after one visit, feel at home in after a second, and make sure they stop by when possible thereafter. Places of Interest in Asbravn Shops Samborl’s Sundries-in-Trade Swap Shop Largest and most successful of the town’s swap shops, the establishment of Samborl Deiryn is a crowded warehouse full of overstocked, used, nolonger- needed and useless items, from brass Calishite veil dancers. fingerbells to three-elk winter sledges. Some of Samborl’s stock is broken, more is undoubtedly stolen, and he knows that some items are left with him as covert signals or message drops by various merchant cabals and other secret groups he pretends to know nothing about. Both collectors and adventurers find his shop a fascinating place to browse.after all, where else in the entire Vale can you find a lifelike bull’s head made of wood and painted felt, designed to be worn during fertility parades? Or a knockdown-archpole brass changing stall for ladies of delicate breeding, complete with cloth-ofgold dancing unicorn curtains (only slightly moth-eaten)? A triple-jointed blown glass back-scratcher from far Kara-Tur, perhaps? Or a whistle that summons dogs, leucrotta, and certain carrion birds.but is guaranteed to drive away carrion crawlers, thrikreen, ankhegs, and other giant insects with hard outer chitin? Perhaps a veil of feathers, once worn by a bird maiden of far Zakhara? Or six smooth-polished wooden casks from Thay, designed to fit inside each other? Samborl sells them all, grinning and rubbing his hands or belly all the while. Most people think he’s an oily slug, but Samborl just smiles. and makes sure he goes to bed each night a slightly richer oily slug. Tantain’s Barrels and Crates Cooper/Packer Tantain the Tall is perhaps the most important man in Asbravn. It’s his flying fingers and tireless work that get goods ready to leave the market and travel long distances well protected. Some merchants even bring their wares up for packing from Berdusk and Iriaebor before shipping them elsewhere just to get Tantain to do the packing for them. The tall, gaunt, sharp-jawed Tantain is never still except when he finds a packing table and lies down on it to snatch a few hours of sleep. He supervises a skilled crew of 10 strong young women and men, and casually throws all payments over his shoulder into a huge brass spittoon unearthed by some enterprising merchant from the old giant kingdom of Darchar (roughly, eastern Amn). Surprisingly, no matter where he is or what he’s doing, the coins end up in the spittoon. As one might expect, Tantain is deadly with throwing knives’the result, he says darkly, of a pirate and then a carnival career when he was too young to know better. Tantain lives for his current work, though. He goes at it so hard that he.ll probably die because of it after a shorter span of years than he might otherwise enjoy. Rolling Wheel Wagons Wagonmaker and Wheelwright/Carpenter A wheel large enough for a titan’s wagon adorns the front of the huge barn that houses this wagonworks. It’s fully 20 feet tall and a favorite climbing tower for local youths, until they.re chased off. The six skilled carpenters and wheelwrights who own this shop together (employing a dozen apprentices and two families of woodcutters) pride themselves on fast repair work. They also sell new wagons made in this shop, but their output is slow because so many urgent repair jobs interrupt them. Their wagons are sleek, but sturdy, in their account. Some caravan merchants have been known to mutter that they.re ‘more looks than hard wearing.. The Wagonmasters of the Rolling Wheel charge stiff fees for their work.175 gp for a major repair job isn’t unknown.but one is paying for their unmatched speed and sure skill. They’ve been known to replace an entire wagon undercarriage, wheels and all, in the time it takes to snatch a quick trail meal. One of the shop’s co-owners and wheelwrights, Thalibul Orn, is an archery tutor for the Red Cloaks. He has been known to shoot parchments out of the hands of fleeing people hundreds of paces distant.l Taverns The Tankard and Sheaf This tavern is always busy and crowded with loud and thirsty visitors. Locals often take their tankards out the back door to sit on sawed-off logs and old stumps in the yard to get some peace. They won’t appreciate outlanders barging into the yard to disturb their quiet smoking and gossip. Someone who’s hired on as a Rider won’t be considered an outlander. Inside, the place is well lit and highceilinged, and is prone to echoing when patrons are sparse. Locals like to get to the Tankard with the mists of dawn, and they enjoy a tankard of hot broth before going to their fields. Their talk at such times is how word of doings gets around Asbravn so quickly. The walls of the old Tankard are adorned with scythes, sickles, rakes, and other farm implements. These are securely pegged in place with bent wooden hoops to prevent them being snatched down and used in the often heated arguments that erupt here between merchants of rival costers, cities, or realms. Inns The Board Laid Bare Despite its dubious-sounding name, this large house serves excellent meals. The dining room.resplendent in cross-laid deep blue carpets brought all the way from Chessenta. is at the back of the ground floor in its own wing, separated from the three floors of guest rooms by a facing pair of meeting rooms. The kitchens and pantries are behind it, at the end of the wing. This keeps noise to a minimum, as light sleepers will deeply appreciate. I was served simple fare for highsunfest: a platter of whole spit-cooked wildfowl, a club of horseradish root to gnaw on, and a tankard of dark, nutty beer. Everything was prepared just so, and at the end of even this light meal I was brought a small plate of sugared darkbread and a slice of lemon rolled in linen to clean my hands on. Eveningfeast was a delightful roast turkey in a gravy studded with shavings of roast boar, all of it garnished with parsley. A highly recommended house. Category:Small cities Category:Settlements in Sunset Vale